


something that speaks eternal youth and existential dread. and teen romance.

by Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Running Away, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Trying to get that indie teen film aesthetic going, is it working?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish/pseuds/Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish
Summary: Sansa is planning to runaway, but a boy from her class throws a wrench in that plan.
Relationships: Jojen Reed/Sansa Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	something that speaks eternal youth and existential dread. and teen romance.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: References suicide attempt, though not in deep description. References past rape, though not in main characters and also in small detail.
> 
> Title was a description for the type of music i needed to listen to in order to write this, and i thought it was poetic enough to fit. 
> 
> Picture this entire fic as if it’s a teen romance movie a la perks of being a wallflower, cause that was a great film and book.

The station was filled with the sounds of people coming and going, some talking loudly on their phones, other staring blankly at the walls, waiting for their train to arrive. Sansa sat on a bench, facing the screen that told the times of each train, her leg bouncing nervously, just a pace faster than her heart beat.

By her feet sat a backpack stuffed full of items she deemed necessary for her trip, and in her hands she stared at the messages popping up on her screen. The light slowly brought spots to appear in her eyes, so she turned it off and put it back into her jacket pocket.

She felt it vibrate, silently telling her someone was calling her once more, and her eyes closed. Hands grasping each other, Sansa bit her lip to stop it from trembling. Her mind was yelling at itself, going back and forth on whether this was a good idea or not, freaking out over scaring her family.

Unclenching her hands, she reopens her eyes and brought her phone out once more. It was eight in the morning and Sansa had been repeating this entire process since she got here at seven. Looking down at her phone, her thumb hovered over the call button when a person called her name.

Jerking her head up, she stares at the vaguely familiar face in front of her. The guy must have noticed her confusion cause he gives a wry smile. “Jojen. From your class?” And his words end with a questioning sound, expression becoming unsure about whether she remembers him or not. But her memory kicks in after a few second of studying his features.

Widening her eyes in realisation, Sansa fumbles with her words, “Oh! I- yeah! No, I remember. Sorry.” She apologised sheepishly, scratching at the back of her hand anxiously. When his eyes trail to her nervous habit, Sansa quickly stuffs them into her jacket pockets.

His eyes dart around the station before asking, “So what are you doing here?”

Brain stalling, words tumble out without her even realising, “I’m running away.” She blurts and he blinks in surprise at her honest admittance, before he shuffles over to sit on her right.

Once seated, he turns a curious glance her way, “Can I ask why?”

Here she looks back at the time board, trying to ignore his penetrating gaze, and worries her bottom lip, stifling the urge to scratch again. Her voice cracks as she tries to reply, “I-um.” But stops herself. She never verbalised out loud, even to herself, why she was running. It was just something that has been building for a long time now, and she was finally acting on it. And Jojen must have sensed her hesitance, because he offers, “Do you have time for a coffee?”

On reflex she looks down at her phone to check the time, once again ignoring all the unanswered messages, before looking back up at him and nods hesitantly, “My train is at 8:45.”

The other teen seems to subtly slump with relief before standing up. Waiting for her to swing her bag over her shoulder, they then proceed to walk to the starbucks shop in the station in silence, dodging other people.

Her mind has now stuffed her earlier worries to the side for why Jojen was even talking to her. They may be in the same high school classes, and for one semester partners in chemistry, but they never really interacted outside of that. He is a quiet kid, though relatively polite and friendly when talked to.

However, they have two vastly different friend circles. Sansa fell more into the popular crowd, whereas he was more blending into the hallway walls with his small group of friends. There was a short time where she envied him for how close he was with them, how easily he could trust those he surrounds himself with. Where as Sansa felt like she was constantly being watched for mistakes when around the more higher up on the social ladder groups of people.

She couldn’t even really call them friends if she was being honest. Besides Jeyne, who has been her friend since birth practically, everyone else Sansa kept at a distance. But since Jeyne had to leave, Sansa felt so adrift. Well, more adrift than she usually was.

So standing next to Jojen in the line, waiting to order their drinks, Sansa felt so confused with how the last five minutes have gone then ever before.

When they managed to find seats and sit down with their drinks, they can’t seem to make eye contact or conversation. The knowledge that they weren’t technically friends hanging heavy between them.

Finally though, Jojen breaks the uncomfortable silence. “So why are you running?”

Her lips tick downwards as she cooly states, chin titled up, “It’s kind of personal.”

Humming in understanding, he takes a sip before casually asking, “I’m assuming you haven’t told your family?”

“They wouldn’t-“ Here she holds her tongue, and looks away into the moving crowds, taking a sullen sip of her drink. She felt that urge again to scratch, but forces her hand to clench so she wouldn’t.

A sigh. “Sansa.”

His soft, earnest tone had her glancing back, and she stills at how genuinely, _concerned,_ he seemed to be for her. “Are you okay?”

The question has her next inhale becoming stuttered and hitching, eyes beginning to burn much to her displeasure. Setting the drink down, Sansa rubs at her mouth, and doesn’t make eye contact, knowing that would make her emotions worse then they already were.

“Do you-“ Exhaling shakily, Sansa tries once more. “Do you ever just feel, _disconnected_? From people? Like, I love my family. I love them _so much._ But I just, I just _feel_ like an _outsider_. It feels like they are all in on a joke and I’m just lost. Like having just missed the joke by minutes because I left the room. I feel so, _wrong_ , being with them. I look around and think, why do I feel _so_ lonely? Why am I just, different?” Then she waves her hand in frustration, “And it’s not even _their fault!_ I think it’s just me. I’ve _always_ had big dreams as a kid, and growing up, it feels like I’ve spent so long in my own head and fantasies, that coming down from them. I looked around and realised that I’ve missed so much. And now it feels like I just can’t catch up on anything.”

Her lungs seem to lack air, and she inhales hard, shaky, wiping away the tears that began to from in her eyes during her emotional dump. It’s hard to get all the words out and articulate them well, but she thinks she had managed to do so, going by the sad look in his eyes. She would bristle at the sight of that pity, but exhaustion is so present in her body, that she barely even cares.

He continues to stare at her as he rhetorically asks, “So you are running away?” And he doesn’t even broach on all that she just said, just bringing them back to his first question. That causes a sliver of anger to in her chest as she sneers, “You have no right to judge me.” 

He then holds his hands up in surrender, honesty so obvious in his posture that she relaxes minutely. “I’m not.” He’s earnest with his denial, that she believes him. “I just want to ask you something.”

With a sigh, she slumped her shoulder, looking down at her drink, “What?”

“Could I try to convince you to stay?”

And here she pauses, having not expected him to ask that. After all, why would he care if she stayed or not, but he is dead serious, green eyes bright and captivating. Looking at the time board, and finding when the last train was, Sansa turned back to him, thinking ‘ _fuck it_ ’, and declared, “You have until ten this evening.”

He just gives her a triumphant grin in return.

She put her bag into a locker, leaving only her phone and wallet in her pockets, before locking up and tucking away the key. Memorising the number, Sansa turns to him and spread her arms out, “Well? Convince me.” And maybe that was a little sardonic, doubting his ability to do so, but she is more of a pessimist nowadays.

With another smile, though a softer, more private one, he declares, “We are going to a museum.” And then turns around, heading to one of the train platforms. Startled by his declaration, and what was it with this boy and catching her off guard, she quickly trots after him to catch up with his long strides.

Peering over at him, she asks, “Why?”

He shrugs noncommittally in return, “That’s why I’m here today. I got two tickets for the exhibitions, and my friend couldn’t come, so I was just going alone. And now, you are coming too.”

He seems proud at that, nudging her shoulder with his, and Sansa couldn’t help the huff of laughter as she gave in. “...Alright then.” She was interested to see how this all pans out.

Waiting for the train, she listens to him describe the museum, a mixture of different artwork and history, all rolled into one.

She’s been to a few museums in this city, they’re practically abundant here, but not the one he was referring to. It was in an old building, with arching ceilings that are painted upon, and marble floors and pillars. It was previously some old manor apparently, Sansa learnt from her phone, the train cart rattling around them.

They had managed to find some seats near the door, Sansa trusting Jojen to watch for their stop. She wonders why she allows herself to go along with his offer. Already she was doing things sporadically, normally a meticulous planner. Putting her running away plan on hold for a trip to a museum was throwing her off balance, but...she almost liked it?

Though she was very much a dreamer at heart and mind, she liked structure and keeping to a plan. It grounded her. And this, though startling, didn’t give the usual panic that would occur when things didn’t go as she had planned them.

Jojen, for how little she knew of him, was a very calm person. Once, in chemistry, the teacher had to leave the room briefly, and somehow, something caught fire. Panic filled the room, but Jojen was collected through out, only standing up and getting the fire extinguisher. Sansa was a little amazed at how he was straight faced whilst many were screaming, staring from where she had backed up to the wall for safety.

He was also smart too. Quiet, but quick witted, and sometimes he would mumble jokes under his breath during class, and she had to stifle her laughter. He wasn’t the worst person she could detour her runaway scheme for. And maybe that was why she was trusting him so easily. He wasn’t a complete stranger really.

After handing over their tickets, they step fully into the opening hall of the building. It’s wide, not completely packed with people, but there is enough to make the hall loud. Trying to gain her bearings, head swivelling this way and that to take in all the old and beautiful decor, a hand slips into her’s.

She doesn’t have time to remark on it as Jojen is already dragging her through the crowd, weaving around all the visitors. They reach a wide, carpeted staircase and begin to ascend. Large paintings decorate the opulent walls, long dead people staring down at them with either disapproving scowls or secretive smiles.

Once out of the hustle and bustle, Jojen lets go of her hand and she flexes it, wondering why she wants to reach out and grab it once more, the warmth leaving as quick as it arrived. It was nice having something firm and secure to guide her.

Shaking away that thought, Sansa and Jojen wander through the halls of the museum, and observe the portraits. To be honest, it was a little boring for her. When it comes to art, she has more of an eye for clothing and music than painting.

Jojen must notice her disinterest though, because a contemplative look crosses his face, before lighting up with an idea. “Have you ever played root, loot, or boot?”

Raising an eyebrow, bemused, she admits, “I can’t say I have.”

A grin spreads across his boyish features as he launches into explanation, “So basically, you look at a painting, and have to decide whether you would loot; steal, boot; throw away, or root; fuck.”

Spluttering with startled laughter, Sansa exclaims, “ _Wh_ -fuck a painting!?”

He bounces on his toes a little in excitement, “Yeah! For example,” And tugs on her jacket sleeve, pulling her over to a painting of a man with a dog. With puffy breeches in a horrid green colour and frilly blouse, Sansa lets her mind speak before she realises, “Boot. Definitely boot.”

At her quick decision, he smirks, “What, not root?” And nudges her shoulder, to which she shoves back, spluttering with laughter again, “I mean, sure the dog is well painted if you’re into that. But that man’s clothes are horrible!”

Hand on his chin, Jojen looks back at the painting with a false air of seriousness, “I find him very fetching, actually.”

A snort escapes her as Sansa dryly concedes, “Okay, you weirdo.” And spies around the room for their next painting. Blue eyes catching on one, she grabs his arm without a thought and tugs. Standing in front of it, heads tilting in contemplation, Jojen nods with impressed raised eyebrows, “Oh well, that is a very pretty painting.”

Humming in agreement, Sansa points at part of the portrait, “Yes, the blood soaked skeleton is very root-able.”

His hands come to his hips as he declares with finality, “I think I want this hung above my bed.” And then glances at her.

They burst in laughter with one another, unable to keep up the mock critique, before once more moving on to the next. They continue that way through out the gallery, drawing some humoured or irritated looks from other visitors. And when it looked like a guard was going to kick them out, they hurry out of that section of the museum, breathless with laughter. They enter a hallway with more marble floors and large windows on one side looking out to the street below them.

Wandering over, Sansa lightly presses her fingers to the glass and looks down, staring at the lives below her.

Her breath paints fog on the glass as she wonders out loud, “You ever think about how big the world is?”

He comes over, leaning on the glass, facing her. “Only when I don’t want to sleep.” And she huffs in amusement, before continuing her train of thought.

“We are so small in the grand scheme of things. Don’t you feel that life is just meaningless? Like, you have no purpose in life?” And turning to him, she stills under those green, green eyes once more.

He quirks an eyebrow and dryly says, “Well, we are only 17. Not even two decades of life lived. So, I think we still have time to find it.”

Brows furrowing, Sansa whispers, looking back at the ground below, “Find purpose?” And a part of her feels the need to be told everything will be okay, even if it won’t. She is desperate for that reassurance, and when Jojen gives a soft, encouraging smile, “I like to think we can do so.” Sansa felt some worry escape her with his words.

Their eyes meet, and its heavy with the weight of their words. Sansa almost worries that it killed the joyful mood. And then his fingers reach out and poke at her shoulder gently, before catching the material of her coat. With a tug and a nudge of his head, Jojen urges her on with calm ease. “Come on. We still have more to see, and it’s only ten.”

Biting her lip, she nods, falling into step with him.

The next room they enter is a marble statue gallery, the room bright from both the white stone and bright, warm lights. It feels like she’s stepped into some version of heaven, barely a whisper of conversation to be heard amongst the divinity. Only the echo of their steps and distant people from other rooms.

They are alone.

Sansa suddenly feels the weight of his presence without the buffer of other people, that she is with a very cute boy. Glancing over at his side profile as he studies a statue, Sansa also feels humbled by him. Already she can tell from their more deeper conversations, that he has a natural way of bringing logic to it, drawing her out of her spiralling thoughts. He does not mock them. Not like Sansa had braced for. He acknowledged her feelings, didn’t brush them off. But he didn’t let her wallow in them either.

And she realises that now, after looking at that moment in the coffee shop. He didn’t ignore her rant, just made her focus on how she was reacting on her emotions. She was planning to run away! Of course he would be wanting her to think it over, though she is still very firm on her decision.

The soft smile that plays on her lips was private as she wandered in a different direction from him, peering at the stone group of veiled women weeping over a dying man. Sansa admired the detail and stunning realism of the carving, until Jojen whispered yelled across the room for her.

With an amused roll of eyes to herself, she turned and burst into laughter at the surprising scene.

A statue where a naked man held up a spear, ready to plunge down on empty space. But that space was taken up by Jojen, who was lying across the podium the statue stood on, pretending to be cowering in fear. His over-exaggerated expression of terror really adds to the image.

Fumbling in her jacket pocket, Sansa pulls out her phone and quickly took a picture, barely even registering all the notifications. Snapping a few, she giggles as she ran over to him, tugging him off the podium, not wanting to get in trouble.

He then proceeded to dramatically collapse into her arms, declaring, “My saviour!”

With more giggles, she shoves him off, unable to look away from that boyish grin of his. He looks mighty pleased with himself with her reaction. Then, he rose an eyebrow and made a sweeping gesture, as if to say ‘ _Your turn._ ’

She took that as a challenge.

Taking a quick, assessing look around, her eyes fell onto one piece and practically sprinted over to it. It was of a man, taking off a robe to casually present his naked body. Digging into her wallet, she pulled out some money, and posed as if the statue was a stripper and she was waving money at him.

A snort let her know that Jojen found it amusing, and Sansa shoves away that pleased feeling in her brain, a click of a camera signalling that the image is captured eternally. They carry on like that, same as with the portrait section, just running around and having a laugh. Sansa was very sure they were breaking rules, and that part of her that was afraid to get in trouble was unusually silent.

She did not care about the possible consequences of their actions, she just cared about the moment they were living in. The exhilaration and unrestrained freedom felt infinite.

However, the security must of seen them messing around, touching the artwork, because two security men came into the room. Fear of being caught, instinct took hold. Snatching up Jojen’s hand, she pulled him out of the room, taking the other entrance of the room.

Pumping her legs, they sprinted through the different rooms, dodging visitors, and feeling the way her heart pounds hard in her chest. Soon enough it’s Jojen who is then pulling her along, knowing the place better than her.

Letting herself be carried away by this boy, trusting him to get them out of this mad situation, a grin spreads across Sansa’s cheeks. Tightening her grip on his hand, she hurries down a staircase with him and spots the front entrance.

Guards seem to be looking up at the commotion and uncertainty lodges in her throat as they continue with their escape in that direction, never slowing down. In fact, they appear to be speeding up. A table blocks the entrance though, where the guards would look through bags.

As they near, Sansa nearly begins to slow down until Jojen yells back to her, “ _Jump_!” And the order has her letting go of his hand so that he jumps first, sailing over the table and easily passing the security that stumble back in surprise.

The crowds part for them, and Sansa does not slow down as she jumps too. She soars over the table, and for a moment, it was like she was flying. And then landing hard on her conversed feet, she crouches from the impact, before sprinting to catch up with Jojen who was just slipping out the entrance. 

Shoving open the nearly shut door with a bang, Sansa spots Jojen, where he is just at the top of stone steps, hand outstretched and she doesn’t even think twice, just grabs it as easily as if it was natural to do so.

Jogging down the steps, they continue to race away from the museum, not willing to stop until they were panting, two streets away from the building. Leaning on her knees in an alley way, Jojen breaths as heavy as her, slumped against the brick wall. Her mind is racing with wild disbelief that they just did that, near hysterical that it comes bubbling out with uninhibited laughter. Clutching her stomach, she falls down against the wall to the concrete below, breaths wheezing from the run, the exhilaration, the sheer, _unbridled joy_ , that she feels in this very moment.

Registering Jojen joining in, Sansa looks up through eyes wet from hysteria and sucks in a sharp breath, laughter pausing as she watches his own joy play so clearly. The old man image he seems to portray falls away with the riot of beautiful laughter that escapes him. 

And then he too slides down the wall across from her, their feet and legs bumping into one another on his way down, which draws her back to the present.

Gasping for air, they manage to calm themselves, and Sansa asks, still wheezing, “What next?”

Tilting his head back on the brick wall, he gazes up to the sky in thought, and Sansa allows herself to admire his exposed skin as he says, “I’m feeling kind of hungry.”

Humming in agreement and quickly looking away, she pulls herself back up, leaning on the wall for support, diaphragm aching from all the excitement.

Taking a glance down at him, Jojen looks back, and only hesitating for a second, Sansa holds out her hand for him to take. Softness in his eyes as he obliges, and she helps to pull him up, basking in that momentary touch of skin again.

And then she pulls away, heading to the entrance of the alley, and hears him follow behind. They wander down the streets, making sure to go in the opposite way of the museum and find a food cart, with a variety of snacks and lunch options.

Going for a sandwich, Jojen chooses a wrap of some kind. Food in hand, they go back to walking until somehow they end up on a roof top looking down once more on the city. Jojen had pulled them into another alley, and headed up the fire escape of that building’s apartment complex. Sansa didn’t even think twice before following, something she has noticed is becoming a habit with this boy.

The wind is only gentle, though stronger than down on the ground, and pulls at her loose braid easily. It’s a wondrous sensation, to be so exposed up on the roof top, but to be alone as well. Munching on her food, Sansa began feel all that chaos from that morning rearing back up now that she’s had the time to pause, and pulls out her phone.

She didn’t even realise she had paused mid-chew until Jojen mentions offhandedly, “You should text them.”

Exclaiming, she quickly covers her filled mouth, “What? No!” 

At her narrowed eyes, he sighs, as if disappointed, “At least tell them you’re alive and fine. Better than the silence and them putting out a police report.”

And she hates how logical his words are once more. Nibbling on her lip, she casts her eyes away from those penetrating green eyes, and stares at her screen. Finally, she does as he says, not even realising she was swiping into her messages until the text box is up.

Mouth dry, tongue a heavy weight in her mouth, she types to her family group chat, ‘ _I’m alive and fine. Don’t worry.’_

Jojen snorts loudly next to her as she hits send, and whipping around to look at him, he is just close enough to almost touch her shoulder with his cheek. His eyes though are fixed on her message not seeing how red her cheeks were, before sending her a side-eyed glance.

“They’re going to worry. You know that right?”

She doesn’t answer, willing her blush away. Just stuffs her phone back into her pocket, ignoring the sudden onslaught of buzzing and goes back to her sandwich, expression mulish.

The silent is not peaceful, but it does not feel awkward either. Her situation just came back to the forefront of their day, and it seemed like Jojen didn’t want to push her further on contacting her family. She was grateful. Because if he pushed any further, he would break her resolve to leave. And she wanted to leave. Didn’t she?

“So where did you plan to go?” His soft voice pulls her out of her uncertain thoughts. Shrugging, not looking his way, Sansa took a swig of her water, before replying, “I’ve got some money, so I can pay for a hotel or something.”

He hums in thought, responding, “And when the money runs out?”

Swishing the water in her mouth, Sansa swallows and snips, “I’m going to be getting a job you know.” And she would! She planned it all out. 

But Jojen once again just seems able to find a way to dig deep into her plans and find all the holes and flaws in them easily. His tone is sarcastic, responding to her irritation with a small amount of annoyance, “And you will be living check by check, unable to really save up for a place because you are paying for the hotel, for money, and for necessities. Also, you are technically a minor and social services may be called. And-“

Cutting him off, she growls, “Alright! Fine! It’s a terrible fucking plan. I get it.” 

With a frustrated huff, Sansa slumps back against the stone ledge, and looked away from Jojen. Said boy, shifted until she felt the light brush of his shoulder against her’s. An apology maybe. Nothing else was said through out the rest of their meal.

Sitting so high up, so far away from her home, Sansa felt more anxious than ever before. Instead of being able to run away from her problems, they feel heavier than ever before. She thought herself smart and practical enough to be able to handle running away, but Jojen brought up some good points. Annoyingly enough.

Closing her eyes, she tilts her head back on the bricks, feeling the warm breeze flutter against her skin, and sinks into the sounds of the city. Her home town was more in the country side, though they did have a shopping centre and cinema. But it was still small enough that everyone knew one another.

It grated on her to be surrounded by people who would gossip about other people’s lives, sticking their noses into private business, and then citing concern when called out on it. They weren’t fucking concerned. They just wanted to reassure themselves that at least their lives were going more smoothly than others.

Blinking open her eyes, Sansa stared up at the blue, blue sky before, quietly murmuring, “Jeyne was committed to a psych ward.”

Head just as leant back as her’s Jojen lolls it to her direction, befuddled, “What?”

She hummed, elaborating softly, “You know Ramsey Bolton?” And her skin crawls just speaking that guy’s name.

Frowning, Jojen rhetorically asks, “The crazy guy that got arrested for dog fights?” And she can’t even laugh at that simple description of the worst person she had ever met in her life. Licking dry lips, Sansa tries, “He-“ but chokes up, throat closing around her words, and Sansa wonders if this was how Jeyne had felt, when telling the authorities. when telling Sansa. “He hurt her.” She manages to finish with a broken whisper.

Jojen stills, and uncertainly asks, “As in...” but he trails off, and Sansa shakes with fury, with horror, with heartbreak. Just as quiet, her resentment building as finishes for him, “He got her trust and took _everything_ she could give him, even when she said ‘ _no_ ’.” And she spat that word out with such vitriol that Jojen wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh, Sansa...” He murmurs softly and Sansa just shook her head, refusing the comfort, “It’s not _me_ that should need comfort! It’s her! _She’s_ the one who was practically going insane, being manipulated and _controlled_! She couldn’t speak for weeks afterwards, and when she did, it was like her throat was so clogged up from holding back the need to _scream_.”

Closing her eyes, Sansa felt tears burning as she continues to rant out how _unfair_ it all was. “She was _so alone_ in her own mind, in her thoughts. I was her _fucking best friend!_ And I didn’t even _know_ she was basically drowning in her pain that she nearly-“ Her breath hitches, unable to finish her sentence, and curls up into her knees. Her hands had flown up to her mouth, trembling with the memories, and wanting to muffle her sobs.

Sansa recalls so vividly that she had been so annoyed at her friend that day, having not come to school and left her alone. She was just full of so much irritation that she skipped her last class and went to Jeyne’s house. Having a spare key from years of knowing one another and living in each other’s pockets, Sansa had stepped into the home easily, but froze. Having felt a sudden dread pool in her stomach.

It was dark in the house, which wouldn’t be that unusual as her father was working. But a heaviness surrounded the shadows, looming around Sansa and her mind flashed back to the purple bags under Jeyne’s eyes, and how lifeless she had become.

Fear gripped her heart when she went sprinting up the stairs, not even pausing to take her shoes off as she normally would. They pounded on the wooden floors as Sansa had barged into Jeyne’s room.

Jeyne was a pale girl, but, she looked like paper when Sansa laid her eye’s on her form. Which was a stark contrast to the-

Sansa let out a broken whine, and her body shook, the sight of her bleeding friend so stark and unshakeable in her brain. She tried to take a deep breath, wanting to banish the images, but it got stuck in her lungs. And then tried again. And again. And she _couldn't breath!_

Panting and crying, head starting to spin, her hands scrambled for Jojen, needing help, and he was instantly there. Taking her hand in his, she felt his breath brush her cheeks as he began to hurriedly instruct in her ear:

“Sansa, I need you to breath with me okay. I need you to suck in a breath through your nose and hold, alright? And I’m going to count to five. Can you do this?”

Giving a frantic, desperate nod, Sansa focuses on the sound of his voice instead of the black dots that were swimming into her vision. Squeezing her eyes closed, Sansa inhales deeply, listening as he told her to do so ‘ _slowly_ ’.

Time seems to become meaningless as she breathes with him. Her head had flopped onto his shoulder, his lean arms coming around to hold her. He was warm. And her fuzzy mind had the stray thought of how safe it felt with him.

It was nearly one in the afternoon when they finally went back down the fire escape. She had to take ten minutes after the panic attack to calm down, almost needing to throw up afterwards with how nauseas she felt. Walking next to Jojen silently, Sansa wondered what he got out of doing all this. Taking her to a museum, talking to her about all her shitty problems. And calming her down from a panic attack?

They weren’t really friends. Sure, they were lab partners, but outside of school work, they never talked about anything personal. But then he caught in the middle of making a massive life decision, and broke down all the barriers around her. No one had done that before. Jeyne was already inside those walls to begin with, but growing older, no one else was allowed in.

And then he came along and decided to take her on a random trip around the city!

Jojen confuses her, and she hates not understanding people’s motives.

He wasn’t a popular kid, kind of just faded into the background, but he wasn’t bullied either. She had seen the way the typical bullies actually steered clear of him, and forever she had wondered why.But being on the end of his questions, the way they prodded at her mental state without even being rude or judgemental, maybe that was why bullies did not bother him. He was so bluntly honest it was almost unsettling.

A tug at her hand has Sansa turning to face Jojen as he came to a stop. He didn’t look at her, just up at the building, and when she follows his gaze, her lips quirk wryly.

“A movie?” After all the running and freaking out, this felt so underwhelming.

Shrugging, Jojen replied, “An escape from reality.”

And isn’t that just a bit on the nos. She snorted, nudging his shoulder with her’s, “Alright, don’t go getting all Freddie Mercury on me.” And stepped inside the cinema.

The nostalgic scent of popcorn saturated the air, and the tension in her shoulders that she didn’t know were there, relaxed instantly. Walking up to the screen, Sansa looked at the show of films and made a face at what they had to offer.

“I have seen all these films. None are good.”

With mock indignation, Jojen gasps, “Are you saying Minions isn’t a master piece of film?”

Giving him a bland look, Sansa dead-pans, “If you are being seriously I will go catch my train.”

He laughs and she shakes her head in wry amusement, “Well, it doesn’t look like they are showing any new films.”

Rubbing at his mouth, he suggests, “Hmm, what about Wonder Woman?”

Her mouth shrugs, and Sansa agrees, “Yeah, that was a good one.”

And with that decision made, they pay for their overly priced tickets, a large bucket of popcorn to share, and enter the theatre.

Sansa was honest when she said that she liked Wonder Woman, but in the darkly lit room, and the way the lights of the screen played across Jojen’s face, she could barely pay any attention. His sharp, but near delicate features were enrapturing, and Sansa could not look away from the way his jaw moved as he chewed the popcorn.

He was a mystery to her. However, he was so forth coming and honest, that there wasn’t much mysterious about him really. Maybe it was the calm, near old man-like demeanour that had her so baffled. Or was it the free, unhindered way he went about in life that captivated her.

“Maybe both.”

“Hm?”

Flushing hard, Sansa realises that she spoke out loud and quickly looks away from where she was staring at Jojen. “Nothing.” Was her short reply, and when she didn’t give anymore context, he went back to the film.

It was as if as she began to settle back into enjoy the rest of the day, it seems to speed up. After the movie, they decided to roam the city, popping into shops and stores that took their interest and at one point walked through a large park. The hours flow by quickly in the casual enjoyment of the city. It felt so strange for him to know about her deepest thoughts and problems, that whilst they were walking through the park, Sansa had to ask, “What are you planning to do with your life?”

Tilting his head in confusion, he replied, “What do you mean?”

Waving her hands about nonsensically, Sansa tries to explain, “Well, you know I’m planning to run away. And you seem to have shit figured out, so I want to know.”

Face lit up with realisation, Jojen breaths, “Oh.” And then shrugs, “Nothing.”

Stopping in her tracks, she gapes at him, “What?” Cause after all the things they’ve talked about, Jojen seemed like the kind of person who had plans for the future and wasn’t a complete wreck.

He shrugs once more, “I don’t have any idea really.”

Floundering, Sansa splutters, “But- You-!”

He laughs softly, “I can talk deep conversations and give people reality checks. Doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing with my life.”

Still disbelieving, “What about after high school?”

He scratches sheepishly at his neck, and looks away, “I know I want to do something to do with travel.”

Nibbling on her lip, Sansa suggests, “Maybe a photographer or a writer? Don’t you do the school newspaper?”

Head snapping back to look at her, Jojen seems shocked. “You know that?”

Frowning, Sansa reaffirms, “Of course I do. I read them.” Tacking that on at the end, feeling like it would be important. And going by the way his face turns an interesting shade of red, that knowledge seems to affect him.

“You read- No one reads them, Sansa!” He exclaims, and she can’t help but burst into a fit a of laughter. He always seemed so calm and collected, but here he is, fumbling like a normal boy. “What are you laughing about?!” He cries.

Gasping for breath, Sansa exclaims back, just as loud, ”Why wouldn’t I read them!? Your team puts so much effort into them, I have to read it.” And she is grinning like a fool, watching how embarrassed he is. 

Though his shoulders relax at her amusement, and admits, “I think you may be the only one who does.”

With a derisive sniff, Sansa remarks, “Well that’s stupid. I really like what you guys write, particularly the open writing column. That short story to do with the ghost was really good.” And gave him a nudge on the arm.

The red creeps back up his cheeks, “Ah,” He scratched his neck bashfully, “Thank you.”

Sansa nods decisively, “I think you should become a writer.”

He smiled softly at her decisive suggestion, looking at the nature around them, and murmurs quietly, “I’ll take that into account.”

They stopped at a small restaurant to eat around eight. It was a small place, over looking a river with lights strung up above them. The warm glow, and the tasty food set Sansa in such a good mood, that after they left, she nearly stumbled with the dawning realisation that they were heading towards the train station.

He didn’t even say anything, just turned and walked in that direction. If he hadn’t remembered, Sansa was sure she would have forgotten.

They had many moments of silence through out the day, but this one? This one felt just like when they were having a coffee. An awkward, unsure weight to their quiet, that made Sansa fiddle with her fingers.

Scratching at the back of her wrist, a warm hand enveloped it, causing her to jerk her head around to stare at Jojen. They paused in their tracks, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes locked onto each other’s.

His hand gently pried her’s apart, so she was no longer scratching, and gripped one of them with a comforting sensation. The city lights made orange and blues and greens dancing around them, reflected in his doe-like eyes. A sadness shone brightly, a melancholy, as Jojen tugged her by the hand to the train station. And Sansa, breathless, could do nothing but follow along.

With a soft thunk, her bag hit the marble floor from the locker, and with a heave, Sansa slung it over her shoulders. She felt shameful, guilty, unable to look him in the eye. Like even knowing that it was _him_ that was the one to try to convince her to stay and failed, Sansa felt like it was _her_ fault all the same.

Biting her lip, Sansa manages to drag her eyes up to look at him, and ask, “Why did you want to convince me?”

And that was on her mind the whole time. She never asked to begin with. And then afterwards, so swept up in the day, it barely brushed her mind to ask. Just letting the question simmer in the back of her thoughts. And now here, with the crowds lessened from this morning but still so busy, Sansa needed to ask. As it would be her last chance to do so.

He gave a humourless chuckle, and looks away, staring at the mass of people. “I thought that it would be my last chance to ever go on a date with you.”

Everything seems to disappear, her thoughts silencing with his confession, Stunned in disbelief, Sansa stared at him, mouth slightly gapping.

A quirked smile appeared and he continued, a longing gaze held in his bright green eyes. “I’ve been in love with you since we were ten, Sansa. You were so, bright. So imaginative and kind. So smart. And I never got the nerve to ask you out. And then, during chemistry, I thought maybe. _Maybe,_ I could finally get the nerves to. And then I didn’t.” He rubs at his mouth, frustration appearing on his face as he continues.

“It’s like,” He paused, searching, grappling for the words, “It’s like I saw you, and saw how alone you looked, surrounded by people. And I thought, _I_ could be the one the make you feel happy. To make you feel less alone. To take away that pain that you seemed to feel. But it felt like such a _selfish_ reason to want to date you, that I couldn’t ask.”

“And then,” His laugh was so self-deprecating, that her heart clenches at the sound of it. “And then I saw you here. What a _fucking_ coincidence, right? I saw you here and how lost and panicked you looked. And I had to see if you were okay.”

Sansa was still frozen with this revelation, that it hurts her when she can’t find words to say. To comfort how discouraged he was.

Jojen sucks in a sharp breath. “When you said you wanted to run away, I think I nearly threw up with panic. All those missed opportunities. All those almost moments. It all came down to this. This, day. where I could either let you go, knowing that I would never get a chance again. Or, I could find a way to have that one day.”

He held up a finger and let out a weak laugh, as if he was thinking himself an idiot for loving her. And maybe he was. “That one, fucking day, where I could pretend that you said yes, when I asked you out.”

“Jojen...” She breathes, lost of words still, but he stops her anyways.

“Sansa,” And his hands came up to cup her cheeks, eyes bright with what she know realised was love. “You are so _loved_ , Sansa. Your family, they would _break_ with the knowledge that you ran away. You have differences, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find some common ground. It’s not too late to go back and tell them all that you’ve been feeling. They _love_ you, Sansa. _Jeyne_ loves you. _I_ love-“

Here he cut himself off, breath hitching, and his hands fell from her face. Jojen looks lost, unanchored in a storm. And Sansa. She wants to snatch those hands back up, to scream and demand him to finish his words. But instead she stays silent, her mind so jumbled and full of too much.

Instead, they stood there, air near suffocating with his confession, until her train was announced.

It jarred them from their moment, and reflexively she began to walk to her platform before pausing. Whirling around, Sansa foundered for some words to say, “It’s not your fault you couldn’t convince me.”

They didn’t feel good enough. And at his half shrug, understanding and sad, guilt crushed her as she turned back around.

At the platform, waiting for the train, her mind went over all that they had done. How carefree and wild it was to run about the museum and run away from the guards. To sit on a roof top, exposed but secluded all at once, and feeling that privacy to be able to break down, knowing that all the nosy people of their town was no where near them.

To just be able to walk and talk, to bask in the moment instead of worrying about the past mistakes she had made, or the frightening unknown future. She felt so consumed in that moment of purely being in the present, that her only focus could be on Jojen. She would want to do it all again.

And Jojen.

How easily he got through her walls. How quickly he managed to break apart all her hastily made plans, when she was so sure of herself. He somehow got her to spill all her problems and worries, and then just picked it back up, placing them back into her mind. But with the reassurance that what she felt wasn’t wrong, or that she wasn’t the only one.

He made her feel less alone than ever before. And the way she abandoned him after how easily he spilled his guts and heart out in front of her. And she just turned away. She couldn’t even give him an answer! Sansa didn’t know if she loved him back! She had never thought of him that way until today, and maybe, she could have grown to. If she stayed.

The arrival of the train had her stepping back, the wind blowing her hair with the rattling train loud in her ears. When it came to a stop, the doors opened and one person stepped out of that cart.

Doubt flooded her as she took a step froward, taking a deep breath with it.

Jojen continued to stand where Sansa left him, staring at her retreating back. His fists were clenching in his pocket, as pathetic hope warring in his chest. He wouldn’t leave until her train had departed. Because maybe, just maybe. She would change her mind.

And as the time ticked down, and it went from ten to five past ten, and she did not show. He feels himself break all over again. Jojen shouldn’t have been as disappointed as he was, hope snuffed out from the small flame that it was.

‘ _Of course she wouldn’t change her mind for you,_ ’ His mind sneered, ‘ _You were just a nobody in the background. Outside of chemistry, you didn’t exist._ ’

‘ _But she knew I did the newspaper!’_ He argued with himself helplessly, feeling so small in his own mind, ‘ _I wasn’t a nobody to her._ ’

‘ _But you weren’t enough for her to stay.’_

And that he couldn’t fault. Rubbing at his eyes, tired and wretched, Jojen began to head to his train when rapid footsteps had him whirling around, hope ignited once more.

A body crashed into his, red hair filling his vision, and he just barely manages to open his mouth to speak when another pair of lips closed over his.

Breath escaping his lungs, his hands automatically flew to her waist to hold her as close as he could in that moment. Jojen had thought and dreamt about this moment for years. Wondering what would it be like. And it was everything and more. Like sunlight breeching through storm grey clouds. Her lips were soft as they pressed into his, and he found himself falling into their touch. Dazed as she pulled back, a wild grin stretched across those pink lips of hers, and Jojen was captivated.

“You convinced me!” She exclaims

He laughs breathlessly, confounded and completely lost of words. Bouncing on her toes, she continues, just as exuberantly and as if she hadn’t just shattered and pieced back his world all at once. “I’m not going! I can’t go, god I was an idiot for thinking it would be a good idea.” She then gasps, blue eyes wide with horror, “My parents are going be to angry and I’m going to be grounded for life which means we won’t be able to go on anymore dates which will be the absolute-“

His lips close over her babbling words, heart soaring with the selfish relief in knowing she would be staying. Knowing that he convinced her to stay.

Epilogue:

The train’s heavy motions had them swaying in their seats, the night sky creating only a void to see beyond the windows, barring the track lights that flickered and zoomed across the darkness. The lights flashed over her skin, only showing moments of the soft peace in her features as she laid slumped against his shoulder.

Pressing a soft kiss to her temple, Jojen basked in this moment. He couldn’t stop smiling at the way their hands were entangled together, waiting for their stop to arrive, to bring them back home again.

**Author's Note:**

> Is this me...projecting...my own problems onto Sansa???...More likely than you think.
> 
> In all seriousness tho, this bitch stewed in my mind and took ages to finally finish. I was inspired by this picture on pinterest of these two people on a train, the girl slumped on the boy’s shoulder, and thought ooo inspiration. And then it turned into this emotional ride.
> 
> I imagine that after they get back, and Sansa and her fam have that much needed discussion, at school, Sansa decides to hang around with her new bf Jojen and his friends, finding a good, solid group of friends in them. And jeyne would come back, better as can be, and just ughhh, they become a squad and i love it.
> 
> (Psst, those who have read dance partner, can you tell i like marble statues?)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
